Goodbye, Lavi
by Rika the Strange
Summary: Bookman has died, and now Lavi takes his place. During his last night in the Order, he realizes something important. Love, friendship, the human heart... No matter how we deny it, they affect us. Knowing this, can he bear the weight of the Bookman title?
1. 10:52 PM

Rika T. Strange again, with something new and different! ...sort of. It's still D. Gray-Man, however it's about _Lavi._ And it's a legitimate fic, not just a one-shot! And Miranda is Lavi's romantic interest, instead of Krory! ...er, rather, _Lavi_ is _Miranda's_ romantic interest instead of Krory. I dunno why, but I've really fallen in love with these two lately (I even have them on my laptop's background!). It's probably because of all the doujinshi XD Anyways, this is mostly Lavi-centered but Miranda and his other friends come in to play a lot.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION: Since FF. net's a bitch and won't upload text that has been struck through (like I originally intended some of the words to be) they will instead be bolded and _not_ underlined, the latter state only present when the text around the words _is_ underlined (you'll see what I mean). ALSO. When he's writing, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Lavi's._ When he's thinking, speaking, or there's narration, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Bookman's_.

Character's are Hoshinos, I hope you enjoy what I've done with them xD;

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He was Bookman now. And that meant it was time to leave the Order. Leave those who, despite his best efforts, he'd grown attached to- dangerously so. A lot more could happen in five years than he'd ever thought possible. History's broad brush painted in centuries and decades, not moments and weeks amassed into months and years. So he had been entirely unprepared for what would happen.

He would make friends. He would fall in love. And then he would leave.

Tonight.

He sighed and carefully placed his log atop his desk before opening it and beginning to write. It wouldn't be his final thoughts, but rather final records of the "ink" he had befriended.

Lenalee Lee, the warrior. Strong enough to match any exorcist but the generals, **compassionate enough to keep fighting no matter the odds**. Suspected of possessing "the Heart" due to unprecedented Innocence behavior. First known accommodator to acquire a "crystal type" Innocence.

He scowled at the entry, uncomfortable with its sparseness. He wanted to add more, even facts as simple as "has dark purple eyes" and "never fails to make you smile" but that would be stupid. It didn't matter if she could make someone smile, make them feel welcomed and cared for no matter what. It didn't matter that she had a heart big enough encompass her world.

Kanda Yuu, the lotus. A "second exorcist" whose creation temporarily halted the research into forced compatibility and attempts to accelerate the healing of exorcists. Capable of extremely fast healing at the cost of his overall lifespan. **A loyal, stubborn son of a bitch-** Has a 90% synchronization rate at the time of this entry. 

He sighed and rubbed his temples. That wasn't Yuu. There was none of his fire in those statements, none of his odd way of caring for his fellows or his harsh, indomitable spirit. Hell he couldn't even write that the man loved soba! This wasn't Yuu.

Allen Walker, the crowned and cursed clown. Also known as the "boy general," he surpassed 100% synchronization rate at the youngest age recorded. Able to see the souls of akuma, **which are scary as fuck**. Innocence also suspected of being "the Heart" because of its apparent inability to be destroyed by typical means, and potential to "exorcise" the Noah from those belonging to the Clan of Noah. Host for the fourteenth Noah's memories; at the time of this writing they are still dormant **and it better stay that way**.

He scowled again. How could he write in Allen's genuine, almost scary care for both humanity and akuma? How could he pen the tears he shed for both? He couldn't even write about the young man's incredible appetite or card sharkery, let alone his refusal to fight Road in earnest because she was technically human.

Komui Lee, the scientist. Worked his way up from science division leader to branch head in four years **so he could take care of his sister**. Driving force behind the committee that forbid Central from conducting experiments on Allen Walker. Otherwise, in charge of distributing missions and overseeing scientific research.

This was getting ridiculous. The passage made Komui sound like a workaholic, a flat and boring man that only researched and looked out for the exorcists under his care. And sure, Komui _did_ do those things- a hell of a lot better than some of the other branch heads- but he wasn't dry or _boring_. The man periodically terrorized them all with giant robots!

Count Arystar Krory III, the lover and destroyer. Host to parasitic Innocence in the form of his teeth. Able to acquire extreme strength and speed by ingesting akuma blood; also able to manipulate his own blood. Single-handedly destroyed Noah's "Bond" **but still cries for his lost love, Eliade**.

He quirked a half-smile. Krory might actually be glad for the inclusion of only cut-and-dry facts. The man tried so hard to move on, to forget his time before the Order… Although he couldn't say that with complete honesty. Krory still had a piece of rubble from his grandfather's castle stashed away in his top drawer, after all. He might as well face it: the man was a walking contradiction, and nothing he was allowed to write could describe his Innocence-induced mood swings, either.

Miranda Lotto, the…

His pen faltered. _The clock,_ he told himself sternly. _Just write 'the clock'. She's as steadfast and dependable as one, and controls time. It works. It's-_ He dropped his face into his palm with a "smack." "For crying out loud!" This was the woman he loved, the woman who gave him his heart in earnest. **He'd been a fool to accept the gift.** How could he write her and… _them_ into something dry and emotionless? How could he not write the way she sometimes said "I love you" like an apology, like it was a burden and not the greatest gift he knew? How could he not write the way she always tried her best to protect them all, to the point that she would be sick from exhaustion for days after? How could he not write the way he felt when they were together- like he was whole and human? How could he…

He slammed his pen down and stood. _I won't._ She would be his alone. His Miranda, free from the cold eyes of a Bookman and the secret history of the world. It broke every fiber of tradition but he didn't care; to do otherwise would break _him._ He scribbled out her name and blew on the fresh ink until it dried, then closed the book and put it away with the rest of his logs, already carefully packed for travel.

**----------------**

Lavi is 21 in this fic, since I'm pretty sure he was in the Order for two years before Allen came along. Reviews and con crit LOVED! They'll help me update faster, I promise!


	2. 11:48 PM

Rika's baaaaack! With another chapter, yo. Woo! Not entirely happy with this one, but... Meh. I'll let y'all be the judges of it.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION: Since FF. net's a bitch and won't upload text that has been struck through (like I originally intended some of the words to be) they will instead be bolded and _not_ underlined, the latter state only present when the text around the words _is_ underlined (you'll see what I mean). ALSO. When he's writing, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Lavi's._ When he's thinking, speaking, or there's narration, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Bookman's_.

Also, Characters are Hoshino's.

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He opened the door to his room and headed towards the cafeteria for his "last supper." It was past eleven- almost midnight- so he didn't expect to find many people there. He'd eat alone and then leave. No one in the Order was supposed to know he was leaving, and as far as he knew no one did. Even with his mentor's death, he never outright told his friends that he was "Bookman" now, or that he'd have to go away. He'd rather just… leave. Disappear from their lives like he was supposed to. He owed that much to tradition **and certainly not cowardice**.

He pushed open the door and was surprised to find the people he had just written about were standing around a table.

"Hey guys," he said with his usual carefree tone, though he was wary as he approached. "What's up?"

Lenalee turned around to face him, looking close to tears. "Miranda says you're leaving!"

_Damn it._ He glanced at the time exorcist and she was already crying, looking guilty and scared and altogether wretched. _How did she- Right, she came by earlier today and caught sight of the boxes…_ He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He'd made her leave before she could ask questions, but Miranda Lotto was by no means a stupid woman- though she insisted otherwise.

"Of course I'm not leaving," he lied cheerily. "What made you think that, Mira?"

She shook her head adamantly, eyes shut tight in an attempt to hold back further tears. "P-please don't lie…"

_Great..._ This was why he didn't want to say goodbye. He hated to see her cry. Hated to see any of them cry, though at least he didn't have to worry about Kanda shedding tears on his behalf.

"I'm not lying, **promise**," he started to walk towards the counter and brushed his fingers against Miranda's arm reassuringly as he passed. "I'm going to get some food."

"Wait!" It was Allen, grabbing hold of his arm. "We already have food here." The group shuffled around to reveal the table was filled with enough food for all of them, Allen included.

"Man, you guys really didn't need to do this!" He laughed and looked genuinely embarrassed. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I was leaving?"

"Of course you wouldn't, stupid rabbit," Kanda growled. "Now sit down and drink your goddamn tea." The veritable samurai shoved his friend into a seat at the table.

"Okay, okay," he said with a laugh. "Don't get your undies in a bunch, Yuu."

Kanda scowled but held his tongue. Let the bastard call him what he wanted. He was leaving anyways.

"We've been expecting this to happen since your mentors death," Komui started, as he and the others took their seats. "If you're going to leave, do it soon before Central gets wind of it and tracks you down for desertion."

"Don't worry about it. Really, I'm not leaving!" Most of the group sighed at his words, realizing now that they weren't getting anywhere.

"Let's just enjoy a meal together, then," Lenalee suggested, forcing a smile for the sake of her friends. "It's been a while since we all got to eat together like this." With the end of the war looming ever closer, moments of peace were few and far between.

"Okay," he relented. By the time they finished eating, their shared laughter and time had almost drowned out the thoughts of his immanent departure.

Almost.

Miranda met him outside his room, looking slightly more composed than earlier. He greeted her with a smile and kiss on the cheek. "You didn't need to do all that for me."

"I wanted to…" She hugged him tightly, suddenly. His eye widened slightly with surprise. "I don't want you to forget us."

"I won't," he answered softly, smoothing down her hair. "I'm not leaving, after all."

"I-I wish you wouldn't lie to me."

He sighed and pulled his arms around her. "…Please don't forget me…" It was selfish to ask, but it was selfish to love her in the first place.

"I won't." It was a promise.

He smiled sadly and kissed her once, lovingly. "I love you, Miranda Lotto."

"I l-love you too," she answered, crying now and not caring. "Please stay safe, wherever you go…"

"I will." It was not a promise.

Miranda tightened her hug for a moment and the stepped back, sniffling but at least no longer crying. "Goodbye, Lavi." Then she turned and ran before she could say anything else, anything that would make his departure that much harder. He turned and opened his door.

**----------------**

Rika says: I'm going to try very hard to stick to a once-a-week update schedule, which shouldn't be too hard because I expect this fic will be rather short (appologies to those of you, if any [lolemo] who are enjoying it). So look forward to Thursdays, I guess!

Also, FFVII reference for the win! Virtual cookie for whoever finds it~

Reviews and con crit LOVED!


	3. 2:13 AM

Rika's back! She says, "Yaaaaaaay, third chapter! Thanks to those of you who reviewed~ I think this chapter is better than the last; it's also much longer! Expect flashbacks, hints of Lavilee, rather obvious Allelee and of course the completely obvious Mirabi. Also, I almost forgot that I was supposed to update today... If I ever do miss an update, just send me a PM, review, or something similar to remind me!"

MPORTANT INFORMATION: Since FF. net's a bitch and won't upload text that has been struck through (like I originally intended some of the words to be) they will instead be bolded and _not_ underlined, the latter state only present when the text around the words _is_ underlined (you'll see what I mean). ALSO. When he's writing, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Lavi's._ When he's thinking, speaking, or there's narration, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Bookman's_.

Character's are Hoshino's!

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He closed the door and leaned against it, taking in the rows of boxes stacked to the ceiling. _Small comfort, these books __**they're all I need**__._ He glanced at his empty desk and frowned to find a sheet of paper atop it. _What did I leave out now?_ He flipped the paper over and blinked. Slowly, a soft smile formed. It was a photograph of him and the other exorcists, taken last summer in the courtyard. His arms were around Lenalee and Miranda, the former laughing and the latter blushing like mad. Allen was subtly holding Lenalee's free hand and Komui was, for once, oblivious. Kanda was scowling like always and Krory looked utterly confused by everything. Such a simple photo: a glimpse into the life of scribbled ink. _Lavi's_ scribbled ink, he realized. Because he had influenced them, despite his vow of neutrality. He had influenced them and they had influenced him in return.

He sighed and carefully folded the photo before placing it in his breast pocket. It's not like he'd meant for it to happen like this. **Mistakes are always "accidental."** If he were to pinpoint, with Bookman precision, the point in time when his difficulty with maintaining neutrality truly started, it would be when they began their voyage to Edo.

_Miranda was distributing uniforms to the group, each exorcist taking their outfit with gratitude and exclamations of approval, until it was Lenalee's turn. The girl didn't respond to her name and only stared duly at the walls. He watched her with worry and only heard the end of Bookman's explanation._

"_She's condemning herself."_

_That was too much. Didn't she understand that they'd done everything they could? That fatalities were inevitable? That at least... he was still alive for her? Alive and jealous that she would cry for Allen in a way she would never cry for him. He smothered these thoughts with anger at himself for failing his friend twice over._

_He smashed his fist through the window._

"_Just cut it out already," he growled. "There was nothing we could have done. We were all fighting for our lives yesterday, there was no way we could have helped him!" He wondered which of them he was trying to convince. "THIS IS WAR! WE HAD NO CHOICE! GET OVER IT AND STAND UP!"_

_It nearly killed him to see her cry._

_Bookman almost finished the job, all but choking him to death with his hands and words alike. "Do you believe yourself to be an apostle of God? You are a future Bookman, nothing else! I have taught you _nothing_ if not to be an impartial observer." The old man's grip on his jacket collar tightened. "Don't be taken in by the war. We are only on the Order's side for the sake of recording history... Don't forget your goal, 'Lavi'."_

_He nodded slowly. "I… Got it. Sorry, Panda." Bookman released his grip to smack him harshly upside the head._

After that things got slightly better. Bookman managed to convince them that Allen was still alive, citing Helveska's prophecy as proof. And then Mahoja barged in and nearly beat him to a pulp, which further alleviated the tension in the room. But some awkwardness remained between him and Lenalee, even after he privately apologized to her for yelling.

"_Lavi… What did Bookman mean when he said not to be 'drawn in'?" Lenalee was worried; he could see it on her face though she tried to hide it._

_He laughed flippantly. "Its just Bookman stuff, don't worry about it."_

_She bit her lip. "Just promise me I won't have to loose another comrade…"_

_He laughed again, offering a goofy, carefree grin to distract her. "You worry too much, Lenalee."_

_But he hadn't promised._

He hadn't meant to fall in love **but he had wanted to**. Miranda hadn't exactly set out to give him his heart, either. If anything, she treated him as if he already had one.

"_Aren't you our comrade too?"_

And maybe that was when and why his feelings began to shift. **So fickle.**

"_Miranda? Really?" Allen looked incredulous. "She's six years your senior, though."_

"_Fourteen to forty," he responded with a wink._

"_That's terrible."_

And maybe it was. She was a virgin, an innocent, someone who would view the life of a Bookman not as a tragedy to be altered but to be mourned. He knew if he pursued her, there would be no protests when he left, only tearful resignation. **A logical choice for an affair.** It was probably cruel. But he couldn't forget the feel of her worried hands, grasping his arm and reaching out to mend the human life in front of her.

He caught her in the library.

_"__Mira!" He watched with amusement as her face flushed at the nickname._

"_Y-yes?" She fumbled with the books in her arms, trying not to look like a complete fool as she struggled to carry all of them at once._

"_Let me help you with those."_

"_Oh, th-thank you," she looked relieved as he reached for some of the books and then panicked suddenly. "I mean- i-it's fine, you don't need to trouble yourself!"_

_He smiled and helped her rearrange them to be more easily carried instead. "I promise it's no trouble."_

_She blushed and nodded; he smiled and kissed her and the books came crashing down._

After that, things were not as strange as one would think they'd be. Miranda accepted his advances with a flustered, embarrassed sort of joy, and he was open with the fact that he would have to leave eventually **even though h****e knew "eventually" meant "never" to most humans.** They kept things discreet so people rarely commented, although many exorcists and finders knew. It was a good situation **as far as affairs go**.

Then Bookman found out.

"_You're growing a heart." Bookman's voice was cold, deadpan._

"_So what, old man? Maybe we shouldn't be regulated to the status of robot observers!" He clenched his fists, upset at being found out. He didn't want to choose between his two lives, not yet. Not while there was still a chance of living them both._

"_Emotions lead to bias, which skews perspective. As the future Bookman, you should be committed to nothing but absolute truth in the historical records you create."_

"_Loving Miranda won't change my perspective on anything but her!"_

"_And the organization she works for, the enemies she fights, the friends she keeps, and the friends _they _keep." His gaze was steady, his explanation surprisingly calm. "To love one human is to feel strongly about all they associate with."_

"_I don't care about the Order or its other members," he lied. "I can live two lives. Just watch, Panda."_

"_If I weren't so old, I'd be looking for a new successor…" Bookman ignored the pain in his apprentice's eye. "As it is, I'll just have to hope you realize the truth of the matter when you take on the full Bookman title."_

He had tried to break things off with Miranda after that. Even gotten so far as to arranging to speak with her alone about "something important."

"_Hey, Miranda…" He sighed as he sat down across from her. "I need to talk to you."_

_She fidgeted in her seat, glancing out the window of the train nervously. "I-Is it about your duty as a future Bookman?"_

"…_Yeah." He always called her by her full first name when the subject came up; she picked up on his vocal cues like magic. "Panda found out. About us, I mean." She visibly stiffened. "He wants me to break it off." He watched her carefully, expecting tears to well up in her eyes._

_Instead, she nodded slowly. "I understand."_

_For a moment he saw one of the two paths he walked crumble. Saw Miranda and whatever future they could have together disappear, wholly replaced by his future as a perfect Bookman. It was a future without a heart, without her, and without Allen, Kanda, Lenalee and Krory because Bookman was right: to love one was to love the others. He knew the old man was right about so many things __**but was too foolish to act on this knowledge**__ but also knew he loved his comrades and the woman in front of him more than he could properly express._

"_I don't care, though."_

_Miranda jumped with surprise and faced him with eyes that were welling with tears after all. "Wh-what?"_

"_I don't care. Screw what Panda says! Having a heart won't kill me _or_ Bookman tradition." He took her hands in his. "I love you, Miranda Lotto."_

"_I-I love you too," it was an apology; he waited for the "but" that always followed. "But your future… It's your dream to be a Bookman. Please, d-don't sacrifice that for me!"_

"_I've walked two paths well enough so far, I don't see why I can't continue." He smiled and kissed her softly. "Just watch, Mira."_

But now Bookman was dead, and… He wasn't supposed to be "Lavi" anymore. Tradition strictly stated that he was to leave all former associates (and all former names) the instant he inherited the title. He couldn't be "Lavi" and "Bookman Jr." anymore because "Bookman" was supposed to replace them both. He sighed and pulled off his superfluous eye patch. _I don't __need it for training anymore…_ _**Just like I no longer need "Lavi."**_

**----------------**

Rika says: Two more chapters after this! Tell me whatcha thought of this one! Especially what I could do to make it better! And be ready to put your thinking caps on, because I'm going to be asking for reviewer input on a major plot point very soon. As in, next update. Be ready!


	4. 2:30 AM

Rika T. Strange here, with the forth and almost-final chapter of my fic! I hope you guys have all been enjoying it so far 3 I know I've been having fun writing it!

IMPORTANT INFORMATION: Since FF. net's a bitch and won't upload text that has been struck through (like I originally intended some of the words to be) they will instead be bolded and _not_ underlined, the latter state only present when the text around the words _is_ underlined (you'll see what I mean). ALSO. When he's writing, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Lavi's._ When he's thinking, speaking, or there's narration, the words that are supposed to be crossed out are _Bookman's_.

Characters are Hoshino's!

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He glanced up at the clock on his wall: two thirty a.m., exactly. If anything, he was more reluctant than ever to leave. Five years of not only observing but fighting alongside his _**Lavi's**_ ink… The stain it left on him was even greater than he thought.

But he still had to leave, didn't he? **T****hat's a given.** He didn't want to but he had to. He owed that much to tradition, after breaking away from so much. Receiving a heart, deliberately omitting someone from the historical record… He was a terrible Bookman, and he'd only had the job for a few months.

_**But I don't understand **_**why**_**.**_

The thought had come out of nowhere, but it made sense in a way. He _didn't_ understand what had driven him to want a heart, or to try and balance two different lives at once. And wasn't that important, to understand why he did things? To understand why the ink he recorded did things?

And maybe it was flimsy logic, but it was logic nonetheless.

So he wouldn't leave, not yet. Because there was still so much to learn from this ink, these people. He pulled out a new log and set it down to write. After cracking the spine, he opened to the title page and carefully penned the title.

"A Treatise on the Human Heart"

Bookman "Lavi" 49th

It wasn't part of the secret history of the world. And it wasn't something a Bookman normally wrote. But it _was_ important, for himself and his successors. Because maybe, it was time they were allowed to have hearts **to better understand their ink**.

When it was done, he'd return. He wasn't sure what his home-coming would entail, whether he would still want or need a heart.

But he would return.

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Rika says: I always thought "Lavi" was both his 49th identity, and the 49th Bookman-to-be. Just 'cause. Reviews and con crit LOVED! And I know at one point, I promised I'd make another chapter concluding all this... But as of right now, it's not working out. I've already murdered my "one chapter a week" deadline and I can't think of anything to start with, even WITH suggestions! So until further notice, this is the last chapter. It works as one, I promise!


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